For the rector don't live on his living like other Christian sort of folks; There's a barber's, once a-week well filled with rough black-bearded shock-headed churls, And a window with two feminine men's heads, and two masculine ladies in false curls; There's a butcher's, and a carpenter's, and a plumb er's, and a small green-grocer's, and a baker, But he won't bake on a Sunday, and there's a sexton that's a coal merchant besides, and an undertaker; And a toy-shop, but not a whole one, for a village can't compare with the London shops; One window sells drums, dolls, kites, carts, batts, Clout's balls, and the other sells malt and hops. And Mrs. Brown, in domestic economy not to be a bit behind her betters, Lets her house to a milliner, a watchmaker, a ratcatcher, a cobbler, lives in it herself, and it's the post-office for letters. Now I've gone through all the village-ay, from end to end, save and except one more house, But I haven't come to that-and I hope I never shall-and that's the Village Poor-House! A TRUE STORY. WHOE'ER has seen upon the human face Case, as the case is, many time with folks Pompey, the chip of some old ebon block, Case wore the liver's livery that such Pray mark this difference of dark and sallow, The Colonel, once a pennyless beginner, And homeward turning his Hibernian thought, Unhappily for Case's scheme of quiet, But Pompey always read these bloody journals, And Irish ravages, day after day, Till, haunting in his dreams, he used to say, That "Pompey could not sleep on Pompey's Pillar." Judge then the horror of the nigger's face To find-with such impressions of that dire land- He saw in fearful reveries arise, then "Those Emmets," not so "little in his eyes" He felt himself piked, roasted,-carved and hacked, Full of this fright, With broken peace and broken English choking, Massa!-Massa!-Colonel!-Massa Case.Not go to Ireland!-Ireland dam bad place; Dem take our bloods-dem Irish-every dropOh why for Massa go so far a distance To have him life?"- -Here Pompey made a stop, Putting an awful period to existence. "Not go to Ireland-not to Ireland, fellow, And murdered-why should I be murdered, Sirrah ?" Cried Case, with anger's tinge upon his yellow,- 66 Well, what has that to do-quick-speak outright, boy? "O Massa". -(so the explanation_ran) "Massa be killed-'cause Massa Orange Man, And Pompey killed-'cause Pompey not a White Boy!" THE CARELESSE NURSE MAYD. I SAWE a Mayd sitte on a Bank, And whiles His flatterynge Vowes She drank, All Even Tide they Talkde and Kist, With angrie Hands and frownynge Browe, She then beginnes to wayle the Ladde The Momente that her Care was drownd! TO FANNY. "Gay being, born to flutter! "-SALE'S GLEE Is this your faith, then, Fanny! Last night you smiled on all, Maʼam, I thought that of the Sogers (As the Scotch say) one might do, And that I, slight Ensign Rogers, Was the chosen man and true. But 'Sblood! your eye was busy General Joblin, General Jodkin, Colonels-Kelly, Felly, with Majors-Sturgeon, Truffle, Bodkin, And the Quarter-master Smith. Major Powderum—Major DowdrumMajor Chowdrum-Major ByeCaptain Tawney-Captain Fawney, Captain Any-one-but I ! Deuce take it! when the regiment You so praised, I only thought, |